


Red Christmas Dress

by Little_Firestar84



Series: We wish you a merry lust-filled Christmas [6]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Smut, F/M, One Shot, Oral Sex, Reader-Insert, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 07:07:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17055422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Firestar84/pseuds/Little_Firestar84
Summary: It's Christmas time, and as much as you and Clint like to party with your friends, you'd rather party on your own - especially because your cute sexy red dress tempts Clint. Like Crazy.





	Red Christmas Dress

**Author's Note:**

> Christmas sexytimes! For Clint!

Clint was, for the first time in a long time, enjoying a Christmas party – matter of fact, he was the one actually _hosting_ it. With Barney now married and more times than not at his own place, various enemies defeated, world peace rediscovered and an hot girlfriend to share his bed with, he really didn’t see why he wasn’t supposed to celebrate: all in all, it had been a very good year. 

As he was chatting with Cage about the joys of fatherhood, and trying to talk Danny into getting a new costume with the help of Jess , too, he looked in your general direction. You were wearing a knee-length dress, red, very festive and Christmassy, and even if you were talking with Jessica (Drew) and Bobbi, you still felt his eyes on you, because you swallowed, and blushed of an ever deeper red than your dress. 

Slowly, you turned to look at Clint, who saluted you with his drink, and nodded, still blushing a little, a little uneasy at being around so many of his exes. You loved them – in a very platonic sense, of course – and you really got the whole support thing. You really did, especially when they were around reassuring that even if Clint was gone somewhere dangerous doing either his Hawkeye or his Avenger thing, he still got people watching his back and ready to help him out, no matter what. 

Still, it was weird. And borderline creepy. At times, at least. Like right now, when you’d just like to be alone with your lover and get dirty with (and for) him. 

It took what felt like a lifetime, but at the end of the evening, only Cage and Jess remained, the first blissfully ignorant of your real intentions, differently from your like-minded Jess. The hero once known as Jewel seemed to be trying her best to get her husband’s ass out of your apartment, but Luke Cage, despite the strongest skin that there was, also was the proud owner of the sweetest heard around town- a good man, a good friend, who loved to remember the good old times, when he and Barton where in the Avengers together, and saved the world on a regular basis despite Stark’s best tries to stop and just arrest them.

“C’mon, Mister Cage, time to go home. Clint and Y/N are busy…”

“Doing what, cleaning? They can do that tomorrow….” Jess sighed, and rolled her eyes. Her husband truly was a child, innocent at heart like few other people she had met in her long career as a screw-up private investigator. 

“Luke,don’t you want to see your daughter? Now that she is again oh so cute and not a purple freak any longer!”

He sighed. Little Daniel was his soft spot. His baby had him wrapped around her little finger, and just a mention of her name turned to hard-assed super-hero into jelly. He loved her. Loved his baby girl since the moment Jess showed him the pregnancy test. He just couldn’t help it.

“All right, all right, fine. Let’s leave the lovebirds alone.”

It was a simple statement, and it could have meant all kinds of things, but both you and Clint knew that now Luke too was aware of the sexy nature of your thoughts. It made you laugh, your /y/e/c lighting in amusement, for Clint blushed as he was a teenager talking about sex with his parents. 

“Finally all alone, uh?” You asked him, crossing your arms as he shut the door closed, leaning against it with his back. He breathed out in relief, with a sly smile, and run his hands over his tired eyes. He yawned,and you approached him, your head titled to the side a little. “Surely you are not too tired to keep me company?”

Clint smiled at you, and rested his palms on your naked shoulders, running his rough fingers over your delicate skin, reddening the skin a little, the friction making you gasp. “Nah, I’m never too tired for you, sweetheart. Besides, it’s just a few minutes to Christmas. We just _can’t_ go to bed now.”

“Oh? No bed then? And here I wanted to give you my gift just _there…”_ You clicked your tongue against your palate, smirking. “Oh, well, I guess I’ll have to improvise….”

You kissed him, hard, biting his lips in the process, making his gasp against your tongue, and sweetened the bite with your tongue; Clint closed his eyes, moaned, and reached out for you, but he opened his eyes and stared right before him quizzically when he didn’t saw you any longer – you were already sitting on your heels, running your delicate small palms over his thighs.

“Y/n?” He swallowed, looking down at you as you wickedly and teasingly licked your lips as you run your thumbs over his bulging erection. 

“Merry Christmas to me?” You jokingly asked him as Clint hit his head against the door, cackling a little, and you freed his hard cock from the confines of his jeans. Clint was hard and ready, dark red, pulsing under you gaze, and at the sight of the pearly precome at the tip of his sex, you licked your lips with appreciation. “Yep. This is indeed a Merry Christmas….”

You caressed his lengths, and inhaled Clint’s musky and sweaty scent, something that got you addicted from day one, at closed eyes. You licked your lips one more time, just a breath away from him, so close you actually ended up skimming over his sensitive skin, and you _moaned,_ something that, you noticed, made Clint clench his fists at his side. 

You jerked him off, using just the right amount of strength, just like he liked it – up and down, in a spiraled motion, again and again and again, and he _moaned,_ lost in bliss, in his own world, caught up in what you were doing to him and needed so much more, but unable to voice his desires and raw needs. It was in that moment that you tsk-tsked, taking pity on your boyfriend and deciding that it was okay to let your mouth in the game, too. 

You flicked the tip of your tongue in the sensitive slit at the top of his head, sighing dreamily, still holding (barely) in your hands the man you love; one of your hands went to his balls, and cupped them, enjoying their heavy feeling, while with the other you held his cock, and run it across your lips as you sighed dreamily. You licked him all over, even sucking his balls in your warm mouth, but then, you returned to your favorite spot. You circled his cock head with your tongue, tickling him. 

“Nope. No. No way. Nope. Nope. Nope. No can do.” Clint said in a hurry, barely breathing between words. You parted from his cock, still outside of his half-undone jeans, and stared at him quizzically. Clint had always _loved_ getting head: why the sudden change of heart?

But before you could even just ask him what was going on, he lifted you up, and carried you up, caveman-style, to your kitchen isle. You barely had time to murmur his name, leaving your lips as a prayer, that he got down on his knees, and pushed that sexy dress up.

“You have no control whatsoever, Clint Barton…” You giggled. 

“Tell me about it…” He chuckled.As he inhaled your scent – sex and desire and vanilla and lemon and that delicate soap you used for your most delicate clothes. He dipped his finger beneath the band of your underwear – red and lacylike the dress – and slipped them into you. You melted, sighing in delight and perdition as your eyelids fluttered shut, and you gently run your fingers though his dirty blonde hair, gently scratching his scalp.

“Oh, Clint….” You sighed. 

“I wantto see your face when you come around my fingers…” He whispered in a sexy voice as he thrust his fingers in and out of you, his thumb mercilessly pressing down on your clit.

“Let’s go to bed… and make love… and…” you couldn’t end the sentence, your body moving of its own accord as your head trashed right and left, and you fell over the edge, shuddering with the power of your orgasm and crying out his name.

In that moment, Clint stopped his attack on you, and he allowed you the kiss you’ve been seeking for far too long, breathing in and out with you your pleasure. 

“That, was an excellent way to celebrate Christmas.”

You laughed, your arms around his neck, and kissed him, once, quickly, more or less a peck on the lips. “Merry Christmas, honey.”

“And to you, Sweetheart.” He kissed you, too, then, smug and arrogant, he couldn’t help but add, “Didn’t you say something about a bed and making love?”

You squealed as he carried you to your bed, and you laughed, joining in on the fun. 

Merry Christmas to you, indeed. 


End file.
